


Laters Alligators

by james



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frog Statue (missing), Gorilla (mentioned), M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Mike wakes up to find Micky beside his bed.  Is it the escaped gorilla again, the archeological kidnappers, or something new?





	Laters Alligators

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosied/gifts).



Mike woke up suddenly; eyes flying open to see Micky's face inches from his. He looked around frantically, dark room showing him nothing unusual for the middle of the night. He could hear a car driving past, but the noise of its engine didn't explain anything.

Giving himself a mental shake, he said casually, “Hey, Micky,” like his heart wasn't beating mile a minute.

“Hey, Mike,” came the reply, calm and accompanied by a half-smile as fake as Micky's nonchalant tone.

“What's up?” Mike pushed himself up onto one elbow, blinking and glancing around in case there was something lurking in the corner of the room that Micky had come to warn him about.

“Oh, nothing.” Micky didn't move from where he was crouched beside Mike's bed, close enough he could have reached over and touched, but his hands were loose on his legs, like he'd decided he just wanted to hang out for awhile.

More awake now, Mike realised there was probably an obvious explanation. Gently, he asked, “You okay?”

“Oh sure, sure, fine! Just a dream, that's all.” Micky's voice was bright and cheery and he flashed a wide smile that was fake as any Mike had ever seen.

“Bad dream, huh?” Mike settled back a little, heart slowing now that he knew they weren't going to have to leap up in the middle of the night and go save an escaped gorilla in their pajamas. (It had only happened once, so far, but Mike was never going to be able to rule it out again.)

Micky shook his head quickly. “Oh, no, it was a good dream! We were being chased by alligators!”

Mike waited a moment in disbelief, then asked, “How is that a good dream?”

“I woke up before they caught us!” Micky smiled, and it looked slightly more real this time, though his eyes were still frantic.

Mike laughed. “That is good, I guess. Come on.” He scooted back, pulling the blanket away. He knew exactly why Micky was crouched beside his bed, and he despaired of ever convincing Micky that it was all right to just nudge him awake. 

“Oh, no, that's okay.” Micky shook his head, didn't make any move towards him. One hand twitched, though, like he wanted to take the blanket and pull it over himself.

“Get in here.” 

“I-” Micky's eyes darted over to where the others were sleeping. 

“Would you rather sit on the floor while I sleep? That can't be comfortable.” Mike leaned over to take a look at the bare floor, trying to emphasize his point. 

“I don't want-- there's not room, I don't need—” Micky kept leaning closer while he stammered, until Mike could almost grab his shirt and pull him in. 

'There's plenty of room,” Mike countered, even though it would be pretty tight. 

“I...don't--” Micky began. 

Then, “Oh for God's sake, just put your mattresses on the floor.” Davy sounded wide awake, like he'd been listening in on the whole thing.

“Are we sleeping together?” came Pete's voice, happy and excited. Mike didn't even have to answer before Davy and Pete were getting out of bed, and he could hear them pulling their mattresses off the frames.

Micky sat back on his heels, staring dumbly at them, mouth open to protest but – as Mike had suspected – not actually protesting. Mike sat up and nudged him. “Go grab your mattress.”

Mike stood up and pulled his blanket and mattress up, dragging it over to where Davy and Pete had laid theirs out. Micky silently went to get his own and carried it over. They let Davy arrange them – he got picky about the weirdest things, and sometimes it was easier to just let him make everything the way he wanted it.

When Davy was satisfied, he laid down, while Pete scurried back to get his pillow. Mike gave Micky's shoulder a push and Micky sighed, but went to lay down beside Davy. Mike followed, curling up behind him while Pete settled in at Mike's back.

“Why you don't just ask,” Davy complained sleepily, tucking his head under Micky's chin.

“I don't...” Micky began, but then he paused, and admitted softly, “Don't want to wake everybody up.”

Mike snorted. They had this discussion nearly every single time – Mike pointing out that looming over him in the dark was a worse way to be woken up than just Micky shaking him, or saying his name. Micky insisted it was Mike's fault that he woke up if Micky was nearby, and Mike hadn't figured out a counter to that argument, yet.

But he could feel Micky relaxing against him, Micky draping one arm over Davy to cuddle him close as Pete shifted around from his side to his back to his other side, trying to get himself situated perfectly.

“Are we having sex?” Pete asked.

Mike waited a second, then when no one responded, he said, “I guess that depends on Micky.”

“I--” Micky said, but stopped, and didn't make any noise to indicate what he wanted.

“I'm willing, if you want,” Davy said, still sounding like he was quickly going right back to sleep.

“I'm always willing,” Pete said happily.

“We know,” Mike said, laughing a bit. He and Pete were practically on opposite sides of the scale, but Mike didn't mind being there with them, holding and touching and kissing. He liked the closeness even if he didn't care about the orgasms part of it the way the others did. Nobody gave him a hard time about it – ha ha, he laughed at his own joke. Nobody made him feel weird for it, just like nobody made Micky feel weird for needing a cuddle after having a bad dream.

“I think I'd like to sleep,” Micky finally said. Mike could hear the tone of apology in his voice, then he shifted as Davy moved, leaning up as he gave Micky a quick kiss.

“Go to sleep, then,” Davy said. “Don't be surprised if Pete and I are entertaining ourselves in the morning.”

“Are we ever?” Mike asked, as he closed his eyes. He liked this – didn't like when Micky had a bad dream, but he liked where they ended up. It'd be nice to do this every night, except he knew that sometimes it was too much. Too many elbows, too many people waking up at different times in the morning (or afternoon, if they'd had a gig.) The mattresses on the floor weren't quite as comfortable as in their frames – they'd talked about getting a second layer of mattresses and making a big spread in the corner of the room to sleep on every night. And they might do it, eventually, if they ever had money to spare for four more mattresses. Maybe two big ones, even, and a few thick blankets to spread out on them.

Right now this was good enough, and he smiled as he felt Pete roll over one more time, resting up against Mike's back and pushing one foot up against Mike's leg. Soon enough he also felt Micky relax and heard a soft snore from Davy, then Pete went motionless as he fell asleep as well.

It would be so much easier if they just started the night here, Mike told himself, and he thought about maybe making a jar to put money in, whenever they had some to spare. The We Need A Bigger Bed Fund, only they wouldn't write that on the jar in case the landlord came by. Mr. Patterson was a grouchy old man who didn't like four boys living together in the first place – he sure wouldn't like to find out they were sleeping together. _Deviants_ he already called them, for being musicians instead of having real jobs.

Lucky for them, Mrs. Patterson thought they were adorable, and sweet, and after they'd rescued her from those kidnappers, it was a fair bet they'd never get kicked out. Why those guys thought Mrs. Patterson was a retired archeologist, Mike didn't know, and he sure didn't know anything about a gold statue of a frog, or whatever it had been they'd been after.

As he fell asleep, he hoped he wouldn't dream about it.


End file.
